A Deadly Affair
by kfizzlewizzle92
Summary: Austin Moon is a hardened detective of the NYPD who has been given a gruesome murder case. Ally Dawson is an established mystery writer who knows her way around a dead body. What will happen when the two meet up? Will sparks fly or will daggers be thrown?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well. I'm an overly ambitious moron who is starting another multichapter fic. This one will be a little more dramatic but after a Criminal Minds marathon, it's been stuck in my head and I can't let it go. But don't worry. The banter will still be there. It's like my oxygen as a writer. This one is inspired a lot by the show Castle too. I'm completely obsessed with the relationship between the two main characters.**

**I would love to do shoutouts but I love waaaayyyy too many people so I think I'll maybe start giving out three Shout outs per chapter starting next chapter. **

**I would love to know if you guys want me to continue this so be sure to let me know in a review!**

**Twitter: kfizzlewizzle**

**And check out my bio page for the outfits that our two stars are wearing throughout the story posted on Polyvore. **

**R&R please!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Austin & Ally**

He stepped out from the elevator and took in the familiar surroundings of the precinct. Having been on the police force for the past eight years, he knew this place inside and out. He'd walked miles along the rustic red stained concrete ground, had spent hours staring at the ugly green of the walls that looked like the paint had been regurgitated from the stomach of one of the many suspects that have passed through, and had come to depend on the awful black tar that the department called coffee to make him social in the morning.

Tar that he was determinedly on his way to right now.

He'd joined the department at the ripe age of twenty-two after graduating from Brown with a degree in business, due strictly to urging from his father. He'd obliged the requests of his old man during his four year stint at the university but wasn't at all happy when he'd begun learning the ropes at the family business. He'd had no idea how to break the news to his father that the heir to the throne of Moon's Mattress Kingdom had no desire to stick with the company, and had eventually initiated a serious, late night discussion in order to tell him that he was enrolling in the police academy. It was quite the argument.

He neared the metal clunk of his desk and held up a finger at his redheaded partner as he passed, as if to say "one minute". The finger was wasted though because if there was one thing that his partner Dez had learned about him it was that he was completely dysfunctional before his first cup of joe.

Entering the break room his body was practically vibrating in withdrawal, anticipating the caffeine. He plucked one of the standard white NYPD mugs from the cabinet and poured his coffee. Black.

_Fuck, _he thought as he chugged down the first bit of the sludge,

No matter how many cups he'd consumed of the substance, every drink was like a shot of brandy. But not the smooth, expensive kind. The kind that no one drinks willingly because it makes you regret the day you were born.

Clutching the mug in one hand and scrolling through his emails on his phone in the other, he returned to his desk.

"What's the sitch?" He inquired of Dez who was sitting right across from him. While they both had their own work station and computers, their desks faced each other, which had turned out to be quite convenient on all those late nights spent pouring over a case. Nights much like the previous.

They were given a new case yesterday about the homicide of a middle aged man in Upper Manhattan. This itself was nothing new since being a homicide detective in New York was like being a wizard at Hogwarts, but it was the details surrounding the killing that made it a little less typical.

The man had been skinned and left to bleed out.

Then surrounded in flowers.

And he and his partner had absolutely no idea where to start solving this murder.

The victim had no wallet or ID and had been found in a vacated warehouse, so even when uniforms canvassed the area they'd found nothing. They were waiting for the coroners report to come back so that at the very least they'd have the name of the victim, but with no fingerprints or hair strands (due to the skinning) all they could do was hope that his teeth imprints would provide a dental trace.

Dez dug through the folder on his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Austin, dude. Stop with the Disney thing. You are not Kim Possible."

"I know, Dez. I'm blonde. I'd clearly be-"

"You are not Ron Stoppable, either."

"Buzzkill." Austin reached across and took the unfamiliar sheet from his partner. "What's this?"

"We've got a lead. We ran the M.O through the system and we got a match."

Modus operandi, Latin for mode of operating, meant the pattern of the killing. So if anyone else had been killed by this same perpetrator, it likely would've been through skinning as well.

"So this guys killed before?" Austin's eyebrow quirked. What a twisted way to end someone's life. He'd seen a lot of sick shit during his time as a detective but this took the cake. He couldn't even imagine the kind of person who'd be able to make this stuff up.

Dez scratched his chin and gestured towards the paper still in Austin's hand, urging him to read it.

The blonde detective let his eyes scan the document. "Wait, what does this mean?"

"Well, my dimwitted friend." The redhead whipped his jacket from the back of his chair, "It means we're going to a book reading."

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"My hands were shivering in the cool mist of the autumn air. Had I known I'd be stuck in this field playing bait, I'd have worn the gloves that regularly frequent my hands. Why was I even thinking about such mundane things as my wardrobe when I was about to come face to face with one of the most notorious serial killers this day and age? Well in a famous quote Charles Stanley once said, "fear stifles our thinking and actions". I would consider this moment to be a prime example. Ignoring the numbness slowly taking over my limbs, I focused in on the reason I was here. And that reason was currently pulling into a parking space."

She was met with applause as she closed her book concluding her read. Having made a very successful name for herself as a mystery writer, she was just now wrapping up a book tour. Luckily, and very much intentionally, her last stop was at a Ma and Pa bookshop in her hometown of NYC. She was desperately looking forward to going back to her Chelsea apartment, pulling off the Louboutins that felt like they were permanently attached to her feet, and falling into her _own_ bed.

For the first time ever she was grateful that her best friend had coerced her into spending $3500 on a mattress. She knew it was frivolous and she had beaten herself up over it since the day she'd made the purchase, but while most authors were off spending their first royalties on a new car or a fancy house, she spent hers on a bed.

Cause she's a classy broad.

"Thank you all so much! Feel free to mingle and treat yourself to some refreshments, and we'll go ahead and start the signing in just a few minutes!"

She smiled graciously and got up from the chair that was sat facing the crowd of people. Scanning the room, she was met with her usual crowd consisting mostly of women between the ages of 20 and 40 with the occasional husband scattered in. In the far back corner of the shop though, two attractive men stood off to the side looking detached. One was blonde and dressed in black jeans, a red t-shirt and a leather jacket, and the other was a redhead in tight yellow pants and a green button down. He definitely seemed to be the more…_eclectic _of the two.

The blonde met her eyes and began to walk towards her. They must've been a gay couple or something. Between the redhead's bright smile and the blonde's hard demeanor, it would appear as though the Eclectic One had dragged Leather Jacket to the reading. Her curiosity got the best of her and she started towards them, meeting them halfway.

"Hello. I'm Ally Dawson." She didn't hold out her hand. It'd be awkward trying to shake with one man before the other because then it would seem like she had a preference and she was very much okay with them not knowing that she was much more drawn to the blonde than the redhead.

_Oh, shoot._ She wasn't supposed to have a preference.

"We know." Oh, okay. So Blondie was a bit of a jerk.

"Um, alright then." She responded, smoothing her hands on the cobalt blue pencil skirt she was wearing, "Did you both enjoy the reading? Do you have any questions or anything?"

Leather Jacket answered again. He needed a nickname. Hmm. He was blonde. And he was a jackass. So Malfoy it was. Her dear friend, J.K Rowling would appreciate the reference. "Yeah. Where were you two nights ago between 10:30 pm and midnight?"

Well. That was a first. Ally took a moment to once more observe the appearance of the men in front of her. They seemed determined. Much more than one would normally be at a book signing. There was something else about the way these two carried themselves that were raising a few flags in her mind. "May I ask as to why you're inquiring?"

Malfoy reached into his back pocket for something. What was he getting? Was that a gun? Was she about to get shot right now? Security!

Just kidding, it was only a badge.

A police badge?

"Ms. Dawson we're homicide detectives with the NYPD. I'm Detective Dez Wade and this is Detective Austin Moon." Oh so the redhead _could _talk. She was beginning to think he was mute.

"Homicide?" She rapidly began mentally checking off all of her friends and family in New York. Trish was fine because she'd talked to her an hour ago and there was no way they could find the body _and _track her down this quickly. Kassidy was somewhere around here so she was fine. Her dad had left to fly back to Miami once she'd told him that he didn't have to housesit anymore. Gavin was…where was Gavin? She hadn't talked to him in a few days. Oh my God. They were here to tell her that Gavin was dead. Brutally murdered with a scalpel, and hung up from a construction crane by his ear lobe-

"We are in the middle of conducting an investigation on a recent murder that we believe may be tied to your book."

Okay, so maybe she had somewhat of an overactive imagination. She was a writer. But she probably still needed to call Gavin after whatever this was shook down.

"What do you mean? How could my book be tied to a murder? How could any book be tied to a murder?" She was thoroughly confused at this point. Glancing at the watch wrapped around her slim wrist she also took a mental note of the fact that she was supposed to start autographing in two minutes and thirteen seconds.

Let's hurry this up, Detectives.

"It's not something that we can discuss openly but if you'd like to come with us to the precinct we'd be happy to have a conversation with you." Dez spoke lowly enough that only Ally and Austin could hear.

This Detective Wade guy, he was good peoples. Super kind, considerate, and trustworthy. Detective Moon, who had mysteriously taken the wallflower role in this exchange, not so much. He just stood there looking like someone was trying to steal his candy.

It was pretty much the ultimate game of good cop, bad cop.

Unfortunately for them, now wasn't playtime for her.

"Sorry, detectives. As you can see I'm in the middle of the last stop on my book tour and am contractually obligated to autograph some books. Unless you two are arresting me, I'm afraid I cannot leave." She quirked her brow challengingly. "Are you arresting me detectives?"

They both gave a slight shake of their heads.

"Then I'm sorry but I can't go with you right now. However, if you'd like to stick around for, " she glanced at her wrist watch once more, "the next forty five minutes, I'd be glad to accompany you to your precinct."

Wordlessly, Austin walked to a chair in the very back of the room and took a seat, pulling his phone out and crossing his legs to settle in for the wait.

Well, alright then.

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"Dez, what do we know about this woman?" Austin tilted his head, scrutinizing the author as she greeted the next person in line to get their book signed.

From his personal perspective she was quite the stunner. Dark chestnut locks were pulled back from her face in a loose knot at the back of her neck. Her eyes were the color of burnished amber, dark enough to be brown but light enough that you could spot the depth of the hues from a mile away. She had a slim figure, currently highlighted with a svelte white top and a long blue pencil skirt. She was petite in stature but somehow still managed to have legs for days.

Too bad she was a potential murder suspect.

"Hmm?" Dez looked up from where he was playing Flappy Bird looking dazed as though he'd just been pulled out of another world. Some serious detective work, this guy was doing. Did people still even play Flappy Bird? "Oh. Her name is Allyson Marie Dawson. Born December 12th, 1986 to Lester and Penny Dawson. Height is 5'2", weight 112Ibs. Her parents divorced when she was 13. She stayed with her father in Miami while her mother traveled abroad to do anthropological work. Graduated from NYU with a degree in English Lit when she was 21, and published her first novel at 23. Unmarried. Currently resides at 212 18th St in a penthouse in Chelsea. Her latest novel Deadly Dolls consists of a variety of gruesome murders, one of which is directly identical to that of our victims. "

Austin wasn't even taken aback by the amount of information that his partner had just spouted purely from his brain. Dez had a photographic memory and a ridiculously sharp mind. He had used his intuition many times on a case and was very rarely wrong in his gut. People tended to underestimate him because of his sometimes ditzy behavior but Austin had long ago learned to not make that mistake.

"Do you think she could've done it?" The blonde faced the man next to him.

It was Dez's turn to look at the charming author with dissecting eyes, "I'm not sure. She just got back into the city a few days ago because she's wrapping up a book tour. I guess it will depend on how well she cooperates and how tight her alibi is."

Another thing that Austin appreciated about his partner was that he never jumped to conclusions. He very much lived by the adage "Innocent until proven guilty" which was sometimes frustrating but had saved their hides more times than he could count.

The police commissioner didn't take kindly to detectives mistreating innocent suspects.

Which was justifiable, he guessed.

After what had seemed like forever, Ally had finished her meet and greet and was heading towards them with her purse and a black pea coat thrown over her arm. "I'm ready now, detectives. If you don't mind though, I would like to drive separately so as to eliminate any speculation my being hauled off in a cop car would raise. As I could see this would be a serious test of trust, you have my full permission to hunt me down if I'm not at the precinct in fifteen minutes." She humored with a genuine smile and a hand held up in surrender.

That smile could light up a room. This woman was very hard not to like.

"Of course you can ride separately, Ms. Dawson." Dez had always been the personable one in this partnership, "Do you know where to go? It's the 12th Precinct."

The writer grinned knowingly, "I've done plenty of research on the New York City Police Department. Trust me when I say that I know exactly where to go."

_Lots of research, huh? _Austin couldn't help but to think that that sounded like something that a murderer would do too.

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"Okay. What would you like to know?" Ally had thrown her jacket over the back of the chair in the interrogation room, and made herself comfortable in the chair facing the two detectives.

Well as comfortable as one could make themselves on a rock hard slab of cold metal.

"Let's start with where you were on Friday night." Austin asked solemnly.

She didn't really understand what had caused this guys attitude problem but it was in serious need of being turned around. She had come here willingly as her first bit of freedom after being on practically a minute by minute schedule for the past three months, and here he was treating her like she was some sort of common criminal.

Which she wasn't. And she was about to clear that up real fast.

"I was at a UNICEF benefit at the Met all night. I arrived at 8:30 PM and didn't leave until well after midnight." She placed her forearms on the table and crossed her hands demurely. She had absolutely nothing to hide. "Now can you please tell me how my book is related to the case that you are attempting to solve?"

"Do you have anyone that can confirm your alibi?" Dez asked. They'd completely ignored her question.

She bristled, crossing her legs and trying her absolute best to bite back the snide tone that was threatening to spill from her mouth. She understood that they needed to eliminate all possible routes to the killer. She was just annoyed that she was even being considered one of those routes. "Yes. All 120 other guests in attendance."

Just then, the door to the interrogation room flew open revealing a dark man with a stern look on his face, "Austin, Dez, can I grab you guys for a minute?"

The partners shared a knowing look and stood from their seats, "We'll be right back, Ms. Dawson." Detective Wade stated on his way out the door, pulling it closed behind him and leaving her alone in the dank room.

What the heck was that? Now she was curious. She wanted to know what was going on. She'd seen police shows before. When cops were pulled out of an interrogation, it usually meant only one thing.

_Ally, don't do it. You know that curiosity killed the cat. _

Good thing she wasn't a cat.

She arose from her chair, making as little noise as possible. Tiptoeing her heels to the door. She pulled it open, creating just a crack and placed her ear next to the crevice, trying her best to remain unseen.

"-in Central Park. It's not like the last one at all but we think it's the same killer." She didn't recognize the voice so it must've been the darker man.

"If the M.O. is different than why do you think it's the same perpetrator?" Detective Moon was talking. And he sounded nicer. What the heck, dude? What did she have to do to get him to talk to her like that? That voice was like the richest dark chocolate.

And as a woman, she loved herself some chocolate.

"Because this guy was covered in sulfuric acid and left floating on a raft in a pond."

She was beginning to feel sick.

There was a moment of silence before Detective Wade spoke up, "So what does this have to do with our case?"

While he may not be very kind, Austin was seemingly pretty perceptive. "It's from her book."

Her book. _My book._

_Someone stole a murder scenario from my book._

Her mind was racing. Although she hadn't been told the specifics of the case that she was being interrogated for, she now knew that a second murder had occurred based off of something that she'd written.

Ally Dawson had herself a copycat killer.

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He heard the door before open before he saw her. She had her coat and purse back in her hand and was walking towards the circle that the three detectives were forming with a look of sheer determination.

"We'll be back in a few moments." He said to her. He was trying his hardest to remain objective when interacting with her. Any personal stirrings that may have begun inside of him needed to be shut down immediately.

"No, you won't. We have a crime scene to get to." She scolded, standing tall and prim with her shoulders pushed back in confidence.

"What do you mean _we?" _This was not happening. Who did this girl even think she was? Did she realize that she was here as a murder suspect?

"If someone is killing real people based off of my fictional writings, I have every right to assist in the solving of this murder. I'm not a detective but as I said before, I've done extensive research in the police field and know enough to recognize when I can help and when to stay out of the way. I am easily able to put my mind into that of a callous murderer or that of a tried and true detective at the flip of a switch. Plus I play one heck of a game of Clue." She added that last bit to keep her demand somewhat light. It never hurt to be loveable.

Austin didn't even have words for this situation. All he could do was glare at her for trying to insert herself into their investigation. She was a civilian. A civilian that was currently a _suspect, _none the less. There was no way he would allow her to come to the crime scene. Luckily, Dez took over the talking part of this exchange, "Uh, sorry Ms. Dawson. We can't allow that. Until your alibi is verified, you're still technically under investigation…"

"Then hurry up and verify my alibi." She switched her weight and put her free hand on her hip. She had seen the look Malfoy had given her when she'd said she was coming with them and it had pretty much been her breaking point in regards to dealing with him. She looked at him and him alone as she began to speak again, "I wrote this novel. The novel that _your _cases are distinctly following. And if there is anyone who can get into the mind of this murderer, it's me. No one knows my books like I do. _No one_. I humbly suggest that you don't let your imbecilic pride get in the way of catching a serial killer. Especially one who still has a substantial amount of gruesome murder scenes from my book that he or she can pull from. I suggest you start treating me like more of an asset and less of a villain because if you don't I can _guarantee you, Detective Austin Moon of the 12__th__ Precinct, _that I will do everything within my power to solve this case before you do. And I wouldn't underestimate my tenacity if I were you, detective."

The three men were left aghast at the steadfastness of the woman in front of them. They shared looks, none of them wanting to be the one who stood up to the impressively intimidating writer. Luckily, none of them had to.

"She's on the case."

A new voice was added to the mix. Austin turned to look behind him, and was face to face with his Captain, James Starr. He must've overheard their conversation and decided to intervene.

"Captain, she's a suspect." Austin said tiredly, not understanding why no one seemed to understand this. Murder she wrote. Literally. She'd written the damn murders before they'd happened.

"No, she's not." Captain Starr walked over to stand next to Ally. What the hell was that? "She was at the UNICEF Gala all night, detectives. She was at my table."

That's awkward.

"Austin, Dez. Let her help you. This case can spin out of hand rather quickly if we don't figure something out to shut it down before it can. She's the only lead you have and she's a dead end. What could be the harm of it?" He was usually on board with most of the Captains idea but this was something he couldn't quite get behind.

Dez seemed to agree. "Captain Starr, even if she's not the killer she could be an accessory. If she assists in our case she could let the unsub know when we're getting close to nabbing them."

"Um, hi." Ally leaned into their line of sight and wiggled her fingers, "I'm still here. This may not be the best time to discuss whether or not I'm an accessory to murder." All four men turned to look at her, and she held her hands up defensively, "Which I'm not!"

Captain Starr gave her a side glance. "Then only fill her in on a need to know basis. She'll be assisting with your investigation. End of story." And with that he walked away, leaving the four of them standing there uncomfortably.

"Fine, let's go." Austin couldn't fight with his superior. The one time he'd done it he'd been suspended without pay and had been bored out of his fucking mind sitting at home. Since then it was something he'd generally avoided. He turned and started towards the elevator, pulling his keys from his pocket and leaving Dez and Ally to follow him.

Ally obliged willingly and mentally started cursing herself. She was going to have to call Trish. She really needed a new pair of shoes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: More Criminal Minds today, yay! Please please please review! I love hearing what you guys think and it definitely motivates me to update faster. **

**Twitter: kfizzlewizzle**

**All outfits are on Polyvore which can be accessed from my Bio page.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Austin & Ally. **

He wasn't surprised to step out of the car and see only a few officers milling about the scene. Even in the city that never sleeps, these deep areas of Central Park were typically deserted once the sun stopped providing ample light to see what could be lurking in the shadows.

Especially since it was already…he quickly glanced at his watch.

9:30.

That was it.

God, why did it already feel like 2 am?

Probably because of the equal parts annoying, and gorgeous author currently trailing behind him.

After everything had shaken down with Captain Starr at the precinct, she'd insisted that they stop by her penthouse on the way to the body to get her a change of clothes because,

"_This could take all night and I'm not going to ruin a pair of $900 Louboutins by stupidly stomping through a crime scene in the dark."_

Verbatim. Those were her words.

And he was being forced to work with her.

Life certainly was a cruel bitch sometimes.

Although he'd definitely be lying if he said that she didn't look pretty damn hot in the shapely denim jeans and leather brown jacket that she was currently sporting.

But once again, he made it somewhat of a rule to not get involved with murder suspects. And regardless of what the captain believed about her innocence, he still had a weird feeling about the woman in his gut. So he'd definitely be keeping an eye on her.

"How long do you think she'll last until she pukes?" He asked Dez with a smug smirk, crouching under the police tape and heading towards where the Medical Examiner was sat leaning over a large mass, near the edge of the famous Turtle Pond. Their civilian counterpart trailed a few feet behind them. Probably because she was afraid of what she might see.

As he approached the body, he couldn't help but to think that maybe the fear was warranted.

"Not long. I'm about to lose it myself." The redhead deadpanned, face contorting as he looked down on the mangled corpse that had been pulled from the manmade pond.

It was no mystery that battery acid had indeed been involved in this murder. The lifeless skin was disintegrating, practically seeping into the bones, and held an unnatural bluish pallor. Austin could sense Ally behind him, standing back from the scene, and assumed that she was too shocked to look closely upon the body.

"If you're going to vomit," he faced her direction and pointed to a spot a bit away from the yellow tape, "do it over there. I don't need you to contaminate my crime scene."

"I'm not going to throw up." She muttered lowly, tilting her head to get a view of the victim from a slightly different angle.

He rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. "From the look on your face Ms. Dawson you don't seem to be holding up too well. I'm sorry if you find it presumptuous of me, but I'd feel much more comfortable with you a few feet away from the body until you manage to get your stomach under control."

Something flashed in her eyes and he was almost scared for a moment. "Even if I were to throw up it wouldn't matter because this isn't your crime scene, Detective. That section of the pond, way over there…" she pointed to an area clear across the body of water, where the shrubbery surrounding the edge appeared to be folded, "Is presumably your crime scene. The wetland plants only barely flatten when walked on before fluttering back up to full height. The only thing that would get the Reedgrass to flatten in such a permanent state would be a mass of weight dragged across the area, therefore dispersing the pressure. For example, a body."

She shifted her gaze back to where the M.E. was placing a blue bag over their victim. "Eyeballing it, that man is 5'9", and roughly 185Ibs which would be a more than adequate weight to have aforementioned effect on the tall grass. The blue tint in his skin would typically imply that he's been soaking for at least seven hours, but the reaction of the water mixed with the acidity of the sulfur speeds up the process so I'd guess that it's been roughly two hours?" She glanced at the M.E. for confirmation.

The doctor nodded, thoroughly impressed by the new brunette. "Estimated time of death between 6pm and 8pm."

Ally smiled in thanks before returning to her analysis. "There is a dent on the skull near the parietal bone, hinting at blunt force trauma pre-mortem. It's hard to tell if there's any bruising because of the acid, but depending on the force of the impact he might've been killed before the chemicals were even brought into play. The sulfur could've possibly just been used as a source of getting rid of the victims identity, especially since the prints have now been burned off."

Dez blinked a few times, awestruck by what appeared to be his female counterpart in terms of mental capabilities, "Well then."

"It would be in your best nature to no longer presume anything of me, Detective Moon. For I will show you, time and time again if need be, that I am not some ditzy damsel just looking to have a good time with a couple of cops." Her hands slid into her jacket pockets as she went to crouch beside the Medical Examiner, scrutinizing the body further.

"Carrie Jones, and your new best friend." The pretty blonde doctor held her latex covered hand out for the brunette to shake.

Ally laughed and lightly returned the handshake so as not to get her prints on the gloves. "Ally Dawson. Pleasure to meet you."

"No, really. The pleasure is all mine." Carrie covered the head of the body with the foreboding blue tarp, before grabbing her clipboard and raising herself to full height, glancing back at the blonde detective. "I've always said I would pay good money to see someone put this asshole in his place. He has a bad habit of going all 'Me Tarzan, you Jane' when it comes to his cases. Glad the universe finally decided to send him a formidable opponent."

Ally followed suit, standing as a few EMT's came to transport the body into an ambulance to take to the morgue. She too shot a sharp glare at Austin. "Yeah, I've noticed. I'm sure that if you stick around you'll get plenty more free shows."

Exasperated at the flower power occurring before him, the blonde man raised his hand to get their attention, "I'm standing right here."

"We know." The two women said carelessly in unison.

Ally laughed at the jinx then slipped back into discussion about the murder. "This was the second murder in my book. So am I correct in assuming that the murder that I was being interrogated about was the floral skinning?"

"Yeah, that's right." Dez piped in. "The first vic was found in bed at the Lucerne Hotel. Skinned all but for his torso, which held a variety of lacerations seemingly from different knives. Skin remnants were nowhere to be seen and the lack of blood splatter suggested that he was killed elsewhere and then moved to the suite. Surrounding his body were a combination of white roses and-"

"Black dahlias." She pushed down the bile rising in her throat. It was her fault that all of this was happening. Her gruesome and overactive imagination had cost two innocent people their lives.

"Why those flowers anyway?" Dez asked the writer, again getting sidetracked from the matter at hand. His curiosity had been piqued on this topic since the moment he'd stepped foot into the crime scene, especially since the two blossoms weren't exactly complimentary to one another.

"There was something hauntingly beautiful to me about the innocence of white roses contrasting with the much more tainted essence of black dahlias. If the dahlias that were at the scene were truly black though, and I'm not doubting you two by any means, that means they must have had to be genetically mutated. Dahlias by nature only go as dark as a deep purple-maroon color and must be chemically tinted to take on a truly black hue. That means that the murderer either had a delivery placed for black dahlias, which should be easy to trace because they aren't a very popular bouquet to order, or they have an advanced green thumb."

Austin was really trying to stick to his guns about his first impression of the woman standing before him, but she kept showing up just as much as she said she would. She was a fountain of knowledge ready to be tapped the moment that she was needed. He and Dez had already learned of the elusiveness of the specific black flower but had needed to dig a little bit in order to find out. She had already had the information.

Just sitting there.

In her brain.

His phone started ringing so he answered, leaving Dez, Ally, and Carrie to continue to discussing the first murder.

"Moon."

The clear voice of his investigative coworker Trent Jackson rang through the line, "We've ID'd your first vic."

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"You know this isn't your fault, right?"

He drove down the highway, the author sitting next to him in the front seat of his patrol car. As soon as Trent had told him the victim's name, the team had decided that Austin & Ally should go check out the guy's home while Dez went with Carrie to the morgue to see if the latest body held any DNA evidence that could be traced to a suspect.

Even though they all knew it wouldn't.

"Hmm?" Her response was distracted and he was pretty sure he knew exactly why that was. "Oh. Yeah…Yeah, I know."

She returned to gazing out the window as he turned into a housing development. Few lights were on anymore in the suburban homes since it was 10:30 on a work night. Typically they'd wait to peruse the house until the morning but their victim, who had been identified as Chuck McCoy, was a bachelor so Austin didn't see the harm in doing the sweep this late. After all, every minute that they didn't find their guy was a minute closer to another dead body.

He'd offered to drop her off at home, not wanting to keep her out all night working on a case that she wasn't even getting paid to work, but she had insisted that whenever he and Dez were out working this case, she would be too.

Which was slightly admirable, he guessed.

"I'm serious, Ms. Dawson. Don't blame yourself for this. Even if you hadn't written the book, this guy would've just found some other gruesome pop culture murders to fixate on. You didn't put the murder weapons in his hand."

"Just the ideas for them." She mumbled sarcastically. It was almost too clear to him that she was really beating herself up about this.

Sighing, he parallel parked across the street from the address that Trent had given him. He took a minute to really look at the dark one story that would soon be up for sale once the last remnants of its prior owner were cleared out, and then turned to her. "Have you heard of Alexander McCall Smith?"

She nodded, raising an eyebrow and wondering where he was going with this, "He wrote the Sunday Philosophy Club."

"Yeah. He did. And do you know what he said in regards to sociopaths?" He turned to face her.

Head dropping back against the headrest she gave him a soft smile that did something weird to his insides. "A million things?"

"Well, yeah." He chuckled. "But regarding one of his characters, he wrote 'She's sociopathic. She will have no moral compunction in doing whatever is in her interests…'"

"it's as simple as that." She concluded the quote.

"It's as simple as that. We're dealing with a sociopath here. He'd kill no matter what because that's what is in his interests right now. At least we have a leg up by having the writer of his self-determined fate on our side and not his. It's as simple as that, Ms. Dawson."

Her eyes once more began to brighten with the lively glint that he'd grown accustomed to, as they stared into his. "You can call me Ally, you know."

"Alright, _Ally." _Her name rolled off his tongue real nicely. It was probably time to get out of this confined space with her. He reached for the door handle of the car, but felt her fingers wrap lightly around his wrist preventing his exit.

Her eyebrows were raised in expectance. "And what can I call you?"

He flashed her an arrogant smile, gently pulling his wrist from her grasp. "Detective Moon."

He opened the door, leaving her in the passenger seat.

"And he's back." He heard the snide remark come from behind him as she too exited the vehicle.

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"Stand out here for a minute so I can clear the house, got it?" He said to her over his shoulder, lightly pushing the door ajar.

She nodded, and then remembering that he couldn't see her whispered a quick, "Okay."

Watching as he stalked forward, gun held out in his hands, ready for use at the drop of a pin, she stood on the front porch awkwardly shuffling back and forth. After what felt like forever she heard a deep "Clear!" yelled from the other end of the house.

She stepped in and it felt like a cool breeze rushed over her. Her rational adult mind understood that it was probably because she was standing in the house of the man who had played the starring role in her imagination brought to reality, but the sensation still sent a shiver up her spine.

Now was probably a good time to go back to the comfort of Austin's shadow.

Rounding a corner she saw the man that she was seeking, standing in the doorway of what looked like a closet. The cherry wood of the door kept the contents of the small room hidden from her as light pooled from it and spilled onto his features.

What wasn't hidden though was the pale look of disbelief written on the detectives face.

"Moon, what is it?" The sound of her voice tore him out of his trance and he stepped back, slamming the door shut quickly and feigning nonchalance.

"Nothing. It's late, we should probably get going." He stretched out an arm towards the foyer, insisting that she leave the living room before him.

Always the difficult one, she did exactly the opposite of what he wanted and took a step towards him instead, "But we just got here."

"Yeah, but it'll be easier if I just come back tomorrow with Dez. Cover more ground faster and stuff. Plus it's getting late." He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, causing her to tilt her head skeptically.

Malfoy was acting pretty damn suspicious.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go." She shifted towards the front door and began to walk, it not taking long for Austin to be right behind her. Sending up a quick prayer that those three dance classes she'd taken twenty years ago would pay off, she pivoted quickly ducking under the arm that he'd held out and took four long steps towards the closet, throwing the door open as soon as she reached the handle.

A strangled noise escaped her throat at what she saw.

"Ally!" The detective raced towards the author, attempting to once more close off the space, but her arm was adding too much resistance for him to accomplish his goal without hurting her.

Doe eyes scanned the disturbing details of the closet and he didn't know what to do. He knew it was too late to try to pull her away because then she'd just be haunted by the few things that she had gotten a glimpse of.

All he could do was let her soak it in so she could cope however she needed to.

Because she'd need a lot of coping.

Mostly because she was staring at a shrine of herself in a dead mans house.

The small walls of the coat closet were plastered with photos and excerpts of her, clipped from magazines and printed from the internet. From her very first book release to her most recent tour, a variety of images stared back at them causing her knuckles to turn white on the doorknob she was clutching. Random pages of her novels hung in disarray, specific parts highlighted while others were left completely neglected. She gasped when she noticed which parts had been garnished with attention.

The murders.

Murders that were accompanied by matching voodoo dolls laying side by side across the floor. Voodoo dolls that were positioned as they would be if they were the actual victims. Right down to the knife wounds set to scale.

"What the hell…." Her voice trembled and she couldn't get it under control no matter how hard she was trying. "Austin?"

She wasn't even quite sure what exactly her question was as she sought out the eyes of the detective.

"I don't know, Ally…" He too was incredibly taken aback by this newest discovery, wondering how it played into the grand scheme of things. "But I promise you we'll figure it out. Let's get out of here. Dez and I will come back in the morning."

She nodded and took his hand, "Sorry. I just…."

"I know." He acknowledged her need for a warm touch and squeezed her hand softly, pulling her towards the front door so they could get the hell out of there.

Unfortunately, they didn't get too far before they were met by a dark mass filling in the doorframe.

A dark mass that looked suspiciously to be like another visitor.


End file.
